(.0002june15) The Obituary Page Poem by Max Reif

(.0002june15) The Obituary Page

Rating: 3.5


My friend's former wife,
mother of his kids,
died yesterday,
and this morning


thumbing through the POST,
I came upon her picture
quite by accident,

then that of the father
of a high school classmate.

I could feel my crossing
into the hallowed precinct
of the obituary page,

laminated in sincerity,
resonant with echoes
from the Other World —

that metaphysical
Times Square,
where eventually
you'll come across
everyone you know.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM

Oh, that moment perfectly captured Max. Yes, I know just what you mean, so eloquently expressed. The English Times is of course the paper of choice for obituaries here and so the metaphysical crossing works equally as well (geography notwithstanding) ... always a shock to the system even if you know. Grand work. t x

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Sandra Fowler 16 June 2007

Time will have us all, but old friends do live on in the landscpes of the mind. An eloquent offering. Take care. Warm regards, Sandra

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Bonnie Harding 23 July 2007

nice piece of art here, We all have(or will be) there.

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Alison Cassidy 29 June 2007

That last stanza is mind-blowing and reassuring and wonderful poetic. The whole piece is a thoroughly satisfying look at mortality and the mystery of the human spirit. One of your best. love, Allie xxxx

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Not a member No 4 23 June 2007

The word 'crossing' is the one that does it for me Max because it is so loaded with possibility, but for an atheist the resonance is a little dissonant. The thought of the final 'crossing' bounces a lot of energy and fervour back into this life. As always, reading you was a pleasure. jim ps - just read your bio again: a work of art!

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Joseph Daly 23 June 2007

'that metaphysical Times Square, where eventually you'll come across everyone you know.' This is great Max. It is such a releif to read this. That last stanza says all that we need to understand departing it never needs to be that final. I love that feel of how the living feed off the dead. That dialectic that governs nature also finds its place in poetrysuch as this. A great contemplative piece my friend.

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Robert Howard 16 June 2007

I had a similar experience doing genealogy. I found one ancestor buried at Friedens Cemetery in Lycoming Co, PA. Over the months the tally of Friedens burials grew one name at a time until it hit me, all roads lead to Friedens. After that I started writing poems.

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